Sam Can't Be Tamed
by Mah Name Is Bambi
Summary: Sam's annoying antics result in a very traumatic experience for Dean...


**_"Sam Can't Be Tamed" _****_by Mah Name Is Bambi_**

**_Rated T for language... and the idea of Sam's nuts making an appearance? o_o_**

**HAAAY! I'm Mah Name Is Bambi... well, that's not actually my name, but... bleh, anyway. Hi.**

**This isn't actually my first story—I've uploaded on another account—but seeing as I'm an idiot, and it's been so long since I last actually wrote, I forgot my login. So, here you go. I hope it's not too bad... As I said, I'm sort of rusty, but this song came on my iPod and I just thought it'd be pretty funny to write it down. Well, it was funny in my head, anyway.**

**Blergh, on with it! Enjoy :3**

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"Sam! For the last time, would you please _stop _playing that crap? You're making me wanna shoot myself in the face!" Dean shot a glare over at his brother.

"No can do," Sam smirked, turning the music up a little louder as Dean groaned in frustration. Sam wasn't usually like this—he didn't usually even _like_ this kind of shit—but he'd heard the song "Can't Be Tamed" by Miley Cyrus on the rare occasion that they had the radio turned on, and he hadn't stopped playing the film clip since. The whole thing was all but burned into Dean's head.

Dean let out another loud grunt, shutting his eyes, clamping his hands over his ears and sinking into the recliner he was perched upon.

"_I can't be tamed, I can't be tamed, I can't be blamed, I can't, can't, can't, can't, can't be tamed..."_

"Ladies and gentlemen, I'd like to show you a world-first—this creature is unbeknownst to most of society... the Winchesterbird!"

Dean stood still, his lips moving over the words, "What the fuck?" but with no sound coming out. He looked down at his body with his eyebrows furrowed together to see that he was wearing a tuxedo.

The sound of swooping curtains rushed around the room, and Dean's head snapped back up to the stage propped up the very front. There was a huge black wing sitting there, unlike anything Dean had ever seen before... and then all of a sudden, there he was.

The wing folded back to reveal none other than his brother, clad in leather and gazing around nervously, standing inside a cage.

Music seemed to start pumping out of the walls, and Dean gulped, eyes darting around as he tried to figure out what the _fuck_ was going on.

Sam started to trot forward and Dean stared in disbelief.

"_For those who don't know me, I can get a bit crazy, have to get my way, yep, twenty-four hours a day 'cause I'm hot like that..."_

He was dancing now, gyrating his hips in a way that looked entirely too womanly to be right and parading around on the stage. People seemed to have appeared behind him and were dancing as well, as if it were _normal_ for people to just pop up and do that in situations like this.

Then again, there wasn't really anything normal about Sam Winchester dancing like a stripper, wearing a leather outfit and having giant black wings extending from his back, was there?

"_Every guy, everywhere, just gives me mad attention, like I'm under inspection, I always get a ten, 'cause I'm built like that..."_

This was _so _not right. Dean was torn between staring with his mouth agape and looking away; weirded out by the way the leather clung to his brother's body. If it was a chick up there, he'd be drooling, no doubt. But this? Shit, it wasn't exactly his lifelong dream to watch his baby brother's balls be at the risk of poppin' out any second.

"_I go through guys like money flyin' out the hands; they try to change me but they realize they can't. And every tomorrow is a day I never plan, you're gonna be my man, understand..."_

Did one of the back-up dancers really just _smack_ Sam's ass? And why in the name of all that was holy was he now on the floor of the stage on his back, his leg's kicking up into the air and hands clamped on his broad chest as if he was grabbing what would've been boobs?

Dean swallowed the urge to throw up, not wanting to ruin the tuxedo that he'd somehow gotten into.

"_I can't be TAMED! I can't be TAMED! I can't be BLAMED! I can't, can't, can't, can't, can't be TAMED!" _Sam yelled in his deep voice, staring down at the transfixed audience and smirking.

"Dean!" he yelled suddenly. Dean looked around at the people surrounding him before looking back up the stage, confused.

"DEAN!"

Dean's head snapped up, his breathing heavy. What the _hell_ had he just been dreaming about?

He was going to kill Sam, he really was. Putting that video on repeat had _not_ been one of his wisest choices.

"Whatchu want?" Dean shot at his brother, licking his lips and rubbing his eyes.

"I found this other song," Sam grinned. Dean's eyes widened the slightest bit as Sam pressed the play button.

"_I hopped off the plane at LAX, with a dream and my cardigan..."_

Oh god, not the short-shorts. Not the damn short-shorts and the American flag.

Dean was never gonna sleep again.


End file.
